Sunday's Child
by Iris Amergin
Summary: Short reflections from various Trigun characters. PG-13 for profanity.


Note: Each section of this fic matches a different Trigun character to a line from an old poem. The last section goes with characters who didn't directly appear in the anime, but a good Trigunner shouldn't have much trouble figuring out who they are. These sections are not in any kind of chronological order; they take place at different points in the series.

**Sunday's Child**

a Trigun fanfic (poemfic? *blink*)

by Iris Amergin

_Monday's child is fair of face_

Lady killer.

I've heard those two words all too often these days, whispered behind my back everywhere I go. Spoken with tones ranging from contempt to admiration, as if I should ever find myself needing the admiration of these miserable, low creatures. Flawed, imperfect, nothing more than a waste of space and resources...Knives is truly correct in believing that the only option is to purge them all from the face of this planet.

Of course, I am little better than the rest of them. I too am flawed, imperfect...human. But I see what they do not, that there is nothing that can be done to make them worth saving. I will stand behind Knives, and carry out his orders, and I will live to see them all die when the apocalypse arrives. I will watch them fall, and I will fall with them...

...and I will laugh.

I despise my humanity. There is something that raises me above them; Knives saw fit to use me as his best weapon against them, and even gave me the arm that Vash the Stampede left behind after one of their less congenial encounters. But it is not enough to raise me to his level; I am a tool useful for destroying them, but that must be destroyed with them.

Yet even if it is my fate to die alongside them, I can take solace in my part in their destruction.

And as much as I despise humanity, those two words are nonetheless strangely flattering.

_Tuesday's child is full of grace_

I'm getting worried.

The tension between the crew members seems to be getting worse and worse, especially where Steve is involved. He's especially mean to Vash and Knives, and that doesn't sit well with me at all. I've cared for those two for a year now, and I can't find anything not to like about. So what if they aren't human? Vash is so cheerful and optimistic...he's always happy, and it makes me happy to see him happy. And Knives...he's more reserved than his brother, but he's so intelligent, and his speech and manner are so mature. He's simply brilliant.

But all the tedium of being alone on the ship for so long is starting to wear us all down, I guess. The friction's been building up, and I don't know if I can keep everything together.

Alex once told me that I have a gift for making people happy. I used to believe him, but I feel so helpless now. What more can I do? Nothing helps!

There must be some way for me to smooth things out...

_Wednesday's child is full of woe_

If there's one thing I can honestly say about the time I've spent with Vash and the girls, it's that the whole experience has been a real eye-opener. I don't know how the hell Vash manages to walk through everything without shooting to kill, but somehow he does it. How the hell is that possible?

Milly told me Vash has always done it that way, that it's very important to him. But it still makes me wonder, sometimes...more than just sometimes, I guess. It's been nagging at me for too long now. I just want answers. To a lot of things.

Where did I go wrong?

Why must there be sacrifices?

And why the hell are things so bad on this God-forsaken rock of a planet?

Something about this world brings out the worst in humanity; the dregs at the bottom of the filthy barrel they call the human spirit. Shootings in the streets, people used and treated as property, people who casually and willingly pull the trigger to cut short the life of another...people like me. I've breathed it, slept it, lived it, and it's polluted me for my entire life. No matter how hard I try, I'll never be able to clean myself of it, I'll never recover that innocence and purity I lost...that she has.

Shit. It makes me feel guilty, like I'm polluting _her_ now. She's everything I'm not. But still, it's doesn't seem like I've been rubbing off on her--the other way around, really. Am I that horrible? I've tried for the kids in December, haven't I?

Yes. I am that horrible. I'm a damned hypocrite, preaching about humanity's sins while committing most of them myself. Shoot first, ask questions later, and may God go with you. That's just not right, but I've lived it for...shit, I've lost count of the years. Who am I to be telling people the difference between right and wrong?

I'm low. As low as you can fucking get. Sometimes I wonder where I went wrong, what I could've done to make things turn out differently.

And sometimes I just hate myself.

_Thursday's child has far to go_

I know it won't be over until he dies. But can I do it? Can I betray everything Rem taught me and kill my own brother?

I don't know. I really don't know.

But I have to leave. I don't want Meryl and Milly to get hurt, and it's already too late for Wolfwood. God, Wolfwood...the only person who even came close to understanding me. And now he's dead because he listened to me. I really let him down.

And then the Gung-ho Guns...every time I face one of them, they either kill themselves or are killed by another Gung-ho Gun. Why? Their fear of how Knives will punish them for failure is that strong...how could he enjoy this?

There must be some other way out of this. I can't just kill him. I've thought of it; I want to think there's another way, but if there's not...

But every time I think of it, I see Rem.

And she's crying.

_Friday's child is loving and giving_

My big sister always told me to help everyone I could, and I'd make the world a better place. And I've tried, I really have, but sometimes I just don't know what to do...

...about him...

It hurts me sometimes, just to look into his eyes. He's a good person inside, I know he is. But he can't seem to find it in himself, no matter how hard he looks for it. He tries to cover it all up with a smile--just like Mr. Vash does. But then lately he can't even do that much...

I did what I could. I just didn't know what to do. I guess sandwiches aren't going to solve his problems, but I was hoping they'd make him feel better. He said they were good, but I don't think they helped him much, because he said it didn't matter as long as I stayed with him. So I did. I stayed there, and...

And...

He said he loved me, and I said I loved him too. I think that helped him. But he didn't get much sleep, I know he didn't, and he left, and I heard gunshots and...

...no, he'll come back. He has to come back. He promised he'd come back.

But if he doesn't...no, he has to. He was doing so much better! He smiled, even--a real smile, I could tell he meant it, and for once it didn't hurt to look in his eyes. He's come so far, he can't just go and not come back and throw away everything that's already happened...

He has to come back.

He will come back.

_Saturday's child works hard for a living_

If I'd had a clue of what Milly and I were getting into when we took this assignment, I think I'd have just given my two weeks' notice then and there. Danger's an expected part of the assignment, but being shot at, nearly blown up, taken hostage, and everything else you can think of is a bit too much--and after all this, we're still stuck at square one, with no sign of finding Vash the Stampede!

That guy in the red coat sure is getting annoying, though, and every time we see him Milly mentions that maybe it's him. That I simply cannot believe. As good a friend as Milly has always been, she's not exactly the brightest light out there. There are plenty of blond guys in red coats out there--if we're even supposed to be looking for a blond guy in a red coat; all these contradicting rumors are going to drive me insane if we don't find Vash soon.

Why can't these risk management orders ever come with all the information we need? I've heard a few horror stories from other members of the department about misinformation slowing up their investigations, too, but the boss never does anything about it! What's he thinking? If we don't do something about our information sources, all this slowdown could really hurt the company finances. The only good thing is that the more property damage stories start circulating, the more people go out to buy insurance, but we're down fifteen percent from last quarter and I'm sure it's getting worse--just look at what's happened on this assignment alone!

And all this time I have to put up with that annoying guy dropping in randomly, and Milly making stupid suggestions...

I'm just not getting paid enough for this.

_And the child that is born on the Sabbath day_

_Is bonny and blithe and good and gay._

"Hey, what are you doing there, squirt?"

"Waiting."

"For what?"

"I'm waiting for Mr. Wolfwood to come back."

"Might be there for quite a while, then. He went pretty far--way out past December."

"But he'll be back soon, won't he? I mean, it can't be that far..."

"You weren't old enough to remember it when he brought us out here, but I was. It's a long way to civilization from here. I don't think he'll be back soon. Eventually, yes. Soon...probably not."

"I didn't want him to go."

"None of us did. But he's got other obligations; he can't just stay out here all the time..."

"Obli-whats?"

"Obligations. Promises to people, things you have to do."

"Oh...Mr. Wolfwood made a promise to somebody?"

"Well, sort of...he needed to go earn some money. If he can't find some way to cover expenses, this place'll have to close down."

"No!"

"Don't worry, he won't let that happen any time soon. But that's why he has to go for a while. He'll be back. Don't worry."


End file.
